Some Of My Best Friends Are Orphans
by x-Bademancer-x
Summary: As Wheatley becomes further corrupted, his conscience battles it with everything it's got as he observes his best friend. Based on the line from Wheatley's Test Chamber 4 that really stuck out to me. Details inside, rated T to be safe.


**So...as soon as I heard this line in Wheatley's Test Chamber 4: .com/images/8/86/Wheatley_bw_sp_a4_tb_polarity_ ...it struck me. Just the way "Well, actually, some of my best friends are orphans" is said—rushed, the tiniest bit to himself, like he didn't want to admit it—made me over-analyze it. I'm probably looking too deep into that line—for all I know, he was referring to Rick or the Fact Core or something, who also quite obviously don't have parents—but it made me think there was still hope for Wheatley at that point...that he wasn't totally corrupted, and that he still cared for Chell. I still wish I could bring him back from space...it wasn't his fault, darnit! It was GLaDOS's corrupted body's! **

**Anyway, just a quick Wheatley drabble I thought up, under the assumption that he does have a little bit of the mental capacity to push past the corruption—which I've manifested into kind of a disease of the mind, if you will, here—even if only for small bits of time. Oh, and also, being a personality core, I'm assuming he has a conscience as well. Enjoy =)**

**-CheckItOutGirl=)**

**A/N: 3rd person. Check out my profile for updates, polls, and info. On a side note, I have about 2 more Portal fics mapped out after this one...if you still want me to stick around this fandom, anyway ;) Reviews make me not completely depressed from not getting on the volleyball team I tried out for yesterday.**

**[EDIT]: ARRGGGHHAFKGHALJFDSLJLA FanFiction hates me. That link up there didn't work, and I apologize. In order to hear the full quote I'm talking about, I'll post the link above my newest update towards the bottom of the bio on my profile. I'm sorry! **

**. . .**

_Some Of My Best Friends Are Orphans_

"Alright, so that last test was...seriously disappointing. Apparently being civil isn't motivating you. So let's try things her way...fatty. Adopted fatty. Fatty-fatty-no-parents."

Wheatley relaxed a little in his new body, satisfied and proud of himself for coming up with that all on his own.

Then he heard a familiar, muffled, female robotic voice responding below, her voice unimpressed. "And?"

He leaned forward a bit into the monitor, slightly taken aback, trying to get a clearer picture of the sarcastic potato. "What?"

"What, exactly, is wrong with being adopted?" she clarified tiredly.

Wheatley thought to himself, the question momentarily stumping him. She _did _have a bit of a point.

"Wh-what's wrong with being adopted?" he started hesitantly, deciding to wing it. He didn't need to impress _her_, of all people. "Um, well...lack of parents, for one, and...also...furthermore...nothing. Some of my...best friends are...orphans, but..." he trailed off, staring with a new softness in his optic at the strong, brunette woman he once considered his companion.

Well, he still did, actually.

I mean, she was his best friend, really. His only true friend in the world. She'd listened to him, made him smile, and didn't threaten to throw him into the nearest bottomless pit if he spoke another word...actually, she didn't say much of anything, to be honest. When he first noticed her muteness, Wheatley wasn't sure if he'd like that. Being the chatterbox he is, he naturally expected some kind of verbal response, even a simple agreement or disagreement to one of his ideas or inquiries. At first, it annoyed him. He kept a brave face, though, and muddled through their present obstacles, internally kicking himself for being so oblivious to the fact that she wasn't going to speak no matter what he said.

But then, he discovered her laugh.

When he made her laugh—whether credit was due to his accidental bumbling or a rare case where he'd actually intended to cause that reaction—he realized that her laugh was worth more than a thousand sentences strung together. Her silent, airy laugh—the one that lit up her whole face and made her pale eyes sparkle in the dim, otherwise gloomy light—was a prize to behold.

"Also, look at her, you moron; she's not fat," GLaDOS's sharp voice chided, penetrating his mind and ripping him away from his thoughts momentarily.

"I AM NOT! A MORON!" Wheatley screamed back, the corruption seeping its way back into his wiring at his temporary loss of control his emotional outburst produced.

Suddenly, with the corruption polluting his head again, Wheatley's instinct and conscience began fighting it, inducing a battle within the simple-minded core.

_She's not your friend_, the corruption hissed, _she doesn't even care. Remember that time you unhitched yourself from your management rail? She never even caught you._

_She tried_, said his conscience, sounding meek and small amongst so much evil. _You are pretty heavy, being made of metal. She tried, but she wasn't strong enough. _

_What about her accidental reawakening of GLaDOS? She never even bothered to mention the fact that SHE was the one who KILLED her. She could have spared you a lot of trouble, a lot of damage to your wellbeing. But NO. Instead, she let you get crushed, broken, tossed to the side like garbage. Didn't even bother to save you, _the corruption argued back.

_How could she have possibly warned you? She's mute, and it wasn't like she had a pen and paper to jot down notes for you, _Wheatley's conscience defended. _And she was reaching for you, reaching as far as she could to rescue you, but she was being picked up and led to the incinerator by a relentless mechanical arm hellbent on exacting revenge. She was powerless._

_She was selfish._

_She cared so much for you, and how do you repay her? With THIS?_

_She deserves it. She hates you, why should you give a damn about her anymore?_

_She does NOT deserve it in the least. Show her you still care about her. Show her you're still her best friend._

_She's arrogant, smug, atrociously dressed in that jumpsuit, and is a quiet, scheming monster._

_She's kind, pretty, smart, fast, and loyal. _

_You loathe her._

_You love her._

_YOU. DESPISE. CHELL._

"I despise you," Wheatley whispered to himself, turning his head away from the monitor slightly so the microphone wouldn't pick it up and announce it through the testing chamber. As he turned it back to observe how the testing was going, his shutters narrowed his optic to a brightly glowing blue slit of hatred, taking in his opponent one last time before making a final decision on his feelings for Chell.

He studied her closely, observing all the aspects he used to love about her with a new mindset. The brown hair, still pulled back in that signature ponytail...the brown hair he once thought was so shiny, that looked so soft, so compelling to touch if he were given the chance...he now saw as a violently whipping dark weapon attached to her skull, thrashing around hazardously as she moved. Her slim, lithe body was too quick and sly for his liking anymore, including its fantastic jumping skills. That face he'd memorized so well from having nothing else to do when being held a certain way from the portal gun, with its full lips and piercing pale eyes. The same look of determination still flared in them, and the rest of her features as well...a bloody murderous look, it was. It was the same look she'd had when they took down GLaDOS together; it would probably be the same homicidal look she'd give him when she tried to kill _him_.

It was all becoming clear to Wheatley, now. There was no going back to the good old days.

She was public enemy number one now, and he would stop at nothing to see her and her little potato friend dead.

**For some reason, I read Wheatley's conscience in a turret voice, and the corruption in GLaDOS's voice from the first Portal when her Morality core was incinerated. Y'know, that low, smooth, creepy voice. Anyway, I thought that was interesting.**


End file.
